


La Douleur Exquise

by irithyll



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: Ada is only mentioned, Angst, Claire is such a teenager, Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Not Actually Unrequited Love, One Shot, Or maybe it is, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 08:19:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17721566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irithyll/pseuds/irithyll
Summary: Claire doesn't know why, but hearing another woman's name come out of his mouth stings like a slap to the face.





	La Douleur Exquise

Claire doesn't know why, but hearing another woman's name come out of his mouth stings like a slap to the face. It's pretty stupid, she thinks, the way her skin burns with shame every time she hears him say _Ada_. It's not like she had any claim on him anyway. They only survived the zombie apocalypse together, no big deal.

She still can't help but to feel inadequate. Maybe it's the soft edges that still linger in her face, the hints of her youth still clinging on in her adulthood. Or, you know, maybe it's the whole covered in zombie gore and smelling like literal shit from romping around in the sewer detail that made Leon blow her off. _Ada_ sounds like the type of woman who probably smells like high dollar perfume even while covered in G-juice.

It didn't really matter. _“It is what it is and you've just gotta get through it.”_ Chris's words echoed through her mind, the mantra he had always spouted during hard times in her life. In retrospect, it wasn't the most inspiring motivation, but Chris wasn't a particularly flowery guy to begin with. He was always direct, as were his words, and even though it wasn't poetry, it has always worked for her.

“It is what it is.” She mumbled under her breath and pretended the way Leon carried Sherry with her face nuzzled against his chest didn't affect her in any way.

“I just wish I could have saved her.” The melancholy in his voice pierced her right through the chest, and she suppressed the urge to roll her eyes and kiss the misery right out of his mouth. “It sounds like she was about to put you down for the G, Leon. I don't think there's any loss there.” It came off a little more caustic than intended.

There was nothing in sight along the dusty, barren road they were following, but she hoped to god they'd end up somewhere soon. She was getting irritated. _Hangry,_  she lied to herself, _I'm just hangry._

Leon hesitated, pale blue eyes averted towards the pavement. “Yeah, but...I don't think she would have.” He sighed and tilted his head upwards, eyes clenched shut as he let the sunlight bathe his face in a healthy yellow glow. “I think she cared about me.”

Claire figured he wasn't really _that_ good-looking with his stupidly soft-looking light hair and those pouty, full lips. His shoulders weren't really _that_ wide and, honestly, the cleft in his chin was kind of dumb if you stared at it for too long. She's seen better looking guys on campus. Probably.

“Come on, Leon. You're a cop. One of the first rules of handling a gun is that you never point it at someone unless you mean it.” She figured that even Leon couldn’t argue that point, being the strict rule-follower that he was. Claire wasn’t wrong. After all, her brother was a cop too, and he had been very particular about training her how to use a firearm.

“That’s true.” He finally confessed, and though the downhearted nature of his tone wounded her, she couldn’t help but smile a little. _Suck on that, Ada. Score one for Claire._ Admittedly, she felt a little silly competing with a dead woman. _Stop being so petty._

It was warm for September and Claire wondered if it had something to do with the heat of the flames that had likely engulfed Raccoon City by now. She looked up at the sky, shielding her eyes from the sun with the crook of her arm as she tried to gauge the time of day. It seemed like evening would come soon, and she didn’t feel too comfortable about wandering around in the pitch black of night.

They continued in silence for a while with Sherry fast asleep in Leon’s arms. Claire wasn’t a Raccoon City native, but surely they’d come up on something soon. She was eager to pull off her boots that had long grown uncomfortable and sink into the soapiest tub she could manage with cheap motel-issued soap. What came afterwards, she wasn’t sure, but Claire wasn’t the type of person to make plans anyway.

She froze mid-step at the sound of crunching gravel, and she whipped around, turning on a heel to peer into the distance behind them. A car was approaching, some old Honda that didn’t seem like the type of vehicle a serial killer would drive. “Leon, look.” He stepped off the road and turned back, shifting Sherry’s weight to one arm and using the other to wave down the passerby.

The car came to a stop, window rolled down to reveal a greying, middle-aged man. He gave Leon a curious look, and Leon nodded towards Claire. “Are you headed towards the city?” He asked, and the man nodded. “My wife and I got lost out here hiking. I don’t have a very good sense of direction and we’re both from out-of-state. Do you mind giving us a lift?”

_Why the hell did he have to go and say that?_ Claire felt bubbly. It wasn’t like she hadn’t been with guys before, so why did she care so much about Leon Kennedy? They had barely even spent any time together through the night.

She leaned her head against the cool glass of the backseat window as she listened to Leon and the man chat up front. Sherry hadn’t protested much about getting into a stranger’s vehicle and had already fallen asleep beside her with her head resting against her shoulder. Claire figured she had a _lot_ of lessons to teach the girl in order to make up for her parents’ failure, starting with the severity of stranger danger.

“So how’d you two meet?” The man asked, an arm draped out the window as he made small talk. Leon glanced back at Claire briefly before turning his attention back to the highway. “Oh, you know,” He lied, waving his hand as he spoke, “Longtime classmates. We grew up together.”

“It only took him several years to finally ask me out.” Claire chimed in. Leon deserved to be a little embarrassed. “He wasn’t very good at picking up hints.”

The older man laughed and Leon remained oblivious, living up to the story she had invented for him.

* * *

Claire told herself that she didn’t really have time for a guy anyway because bringing down Umbrella was a lot more important. She had to look after Sherry, too, and the girl deserved an attentive parent figure to make up for the poor performances of her biological parents. _Yeah,_  she thought, _Leon would just get in the way anyway._

She sunk down into the sad attempts at soap suds that floated on the surface of the water and let out a heavy sigh. How did she get herself in a situation like this? She had come to Raccoon City in search of her brother and nothing more, but here she was, trapped in a motel washing zombie guts out of her hair with a twelve-year-old orphan and a _stupid_ guy sleeping on the other side of the bathroom door. Chris owed her whenever he got his ass back from his European vacation that he didn’t even have the nerve to tell her about.

Once the water had grown cold, Claire begrudgingly pulled herself from the tub. She took her time toweling off, but it definitely wasn’t because she was trying to kill time in hopes that her companions were asleep. Considering the myriad of disgusting bodily fluids and grime that she had been exposed to in Raccoon City, she just wanted to do a thorough job, _duh_.

With the same stealth she had employed when creeping past lickers, Claire attempted to sneak into the bedroom unnoticed. Sherry was passed out in their shared bed, but, much to her dismay, Leon was _very_ awake and very _not_ blind, and he caught notice of her instantly. The blinds in the room were cracked, allowing moonlight and the pale light of the lamp outside to filter through. It made his eyes so much more  _blue_ and accentuated that dumb cleft in his chin that she totally didn't think was adorable.

"Hey." He spoke softly, careful not to wake Sherry. Claire swallowed hard, trying not to let her eyes stray to his bare shoulders.  _What kind of jerk sleeps shirtless?_   "Hey..." She managed to choke out, nervously running her fingers through her wet hair. Leon turned his head, peering out the window momentarily before looking back at her. "I keep expecting to hear a zombie pounding on the window or for that asshole in the trench coat to come busting through the wall any minute."

Claire laughed at the mental image. It was a lot easier to laugh about the ridiculousness of it all now in retrospect. "Yeah, I'm not sure that Birkin's really gone this time either."

They shared an awkward silence, holding one another's gaze. Claire could hear the rush of blood in her ears as her heart slammed in her chest. Leon's stare was warm and gentle, and he gave her a cordial smile. "I hope you'll be okay, Claire."

Claire's mind stilled in response, and she parted her lips in an attempt to formulate a response. "I...hope you'll be okay too, Leon." He shrugged, falling back against the pillows, crestfallen. "It's just gonna take time, I guess."

She felt his misery like a blade between her ribs and it made her wince. Yeah, Leon was a dense guy who she wouldn't have time for now that she's on a quest to destroy Umbrella and be Sherry's new mom or whatever, but he didn't deserve to look so dismal. With her heart pumping in overdrive, she made her way over to his bed and took a seat on the edge. She placed a reassuring hand on his knee over the thick blanket that separated their skin. "You're tough, Leon. You wouldn't have made it if you weren't. It'll get better."

And his eyes met hers, deep blue and wet, and it broke her heart. He really was too handsome to be sad, she thought, with that wide jaw and those perfectly pouty lips. She didn't have time for Leon S. Kennedy, but maybe she could take a minute to wipe that pitiful look off his face.

So Claire placed her thumb in that dimple she hated, tilting his chin towards hers so that she could cup the other side of his face in her palm. His skin was hot and soft beneath her palm, and his lips parted just slightly in surprise.  _Now or never, Redfield_ , she told herself, and she leaned forward, watching those pretty eyes go wide.

Claire kissed him slowly and carefully. She looped her hands around the back of his neck, tugging him gently towards her, and she took her time so that she could commit the feel of him to memory. Leon S. Kennedy tasted like cheap motel toothpaste and something  _else_ , something that made her heart skip a beat and her skin tingle. She thought it wasn't fair, honestly, that someone so stunning could be blessed with such talent in kissing. It was  _intoxicating_.

So she pulled away, her own lips flushed and wet as he stared up at her, mouth still parted and his eyes clouded over in a daze.

"I...don't think I've ever been kissed like that before." He confessed, and Claire grinned so wide that her cheeks ached.

_You hear that, Ada? Score two for Claire._


End file.
